


False Hope

by thecoquimonster



Series: Trading Times [1]
Category: Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 22:43:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8227267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecoquimonster/pseuds/thecoquimonster
Summary: Will can break promises but not curses. Not on his own, anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my switching time periods AU!
> 
> I think this story will be better told in tiny snippets than it will a whole, huge, modern retelling of TID and a whole, huge retelling of TMI in the late 1800s so here goes. 
> 
> This takes place in 2014; Will and Jem are around 15 years old here. Two years before Tessa comes into the picture.

Will knew that Jem didn’t want him to hold onto any false hopes. But he wasn’t hoping. This was a real possibility. If cancer patients could go into complete remission, why couldn’t Jem? It was 2014 and Will could not believe for a second that there wasn’t a cure for Jem’s _yin fen_ addiction.

A cure was out there. He only needed to find it.

Will wondered if he should use a glamour to get into _Pandemonium_. The nightclub was a Downworlder hotspot, but mundanes frequented it as well.  Will decided against using a glamour and pushed his way through the crowd. On another night, he might have been tempted to dance. But this was business.

He sat at the bar. The man sitting beside him turned and blinked. His eyes were the amber of a cat’s, with the slit pupil and all. Easily passable as contact lenses, but Will knew better.

“Remind me again why you wanted to meet me here instead of the Institute? Or, God forbid, my own home?” Magnus asked. He had spent many years in the United States and spoke with an American accent.

“I didn’t want to deal with Camille and you know why I can’t ask you to come to the Institute,” Will said. “Jem would kill me if he knew I was still out looking.”

“Hmm.” Magnus gazed at his drink for a moment before taking a sip. He set the glass down and tapped the counter with purple painted nails. “What makes you so sure that Jem doesn’t know exactly what you’re doing?”

Will fell silent. He wouldn’t feel guilty about it. That was for certain. He would never feel guilty about finding a way for Jem to live. He didn’t care if Jem thought he was holding on to false hopes. He wasn’t feeding those hopes to Jem. Why would it matter what Will did or didn’t do to find a cure?

Still, he felt a little flash of alarm. Promises were things that Jem took seriously. It was why Jem had fought so hard against becoming his _parabatai_. Jem did not think that he would be able to be a lifelong partner for Will.  It was only at Will’s insistence that Jem agreed.

And Jem kept the _parabatai_ oath, as he did with all promises. As Jem expected Will to do with his promises.

But if a cure was in his reach, how could Will not break this one? If breaking it meant that Jem would live a long, healthy life?

“It doesn’t matter if he knows,” Will said. “He’ll find out eventually.”

“All right then,” Magnus said. “What is it that you so desperately wanted to know?”

“I was reading the other day,” said Will, “about the Nephilim, and our angel blood. It’s dominant.”

“Yes, yes, things we all know,” Magnus said.

“Our angel blood _kills_ demonic influences,” Will said, and hesitated. He bit his lip. “We can still be Turned into vampires or werewolves,” he acknowledged. “We can still catch demon pox.” He waited instinctively for someone to scoff at the idea, but Jem and Charlotte were not there to tell him that demon pox did not exist. Magnus was simply looking at him with faint interest. “But those are viruses that Turn you into something else. Jem is not _Turning_. He’s only addicted to the drug.”

“Your angel blood doesn’t save you,” Magnus said. “Otherwise Jem wouldn’t have become addicted. Or at the very least, the attempts to wean him off would’ve worked. Didn’t he almost die when you tried?”

Will clenched his hands into fists. He didn’t want to be reminded of those times. “He did. But I wasn’t asking about the angel blood inside our bodies.”

Magnus let out a laugh and finished off his drink. “Dealing with angels is not something I’m inclined to do for you, Will Herondale.”

“But you’ve done it before,” Will said. His Shadowhunter history was not as good as it might have been, but even he knew some stories of the Dark War. “You summoned the Angel Raziel once.”

“Those were unusual circumstances,” Magnus said. “Simon Lewis had the Mark of Cain. Raziel would kill you.”

Will raised his head. It would be worth it, if only the Angel gave Will what he wanted first. If only Raziel would cure Jem. It was almost perfect, really. “Let him.”

Magnus shook his head and muttered under his breath. Will couldn’t quite hear it over the booming music of the nightclub, but he assumed it was something about all Shadowhunters having a death wish. It seemed like something Magnus Bane would say.

“I’ll ask around for you,” Magnus said. Will let out a breath of relief. “But I won’t do anything drastic like summon an angel just yet.”

“I want Jem cured,” Will said. He gave Magnus a hard stare. He would do anything it took.

Magnus looked at him for a moment. He smiled. “I know, Will. And what about the other thing?”

“The other thing,” Will repeated back dully. He knew what Magnus meant by it. His curse. “I don’t have any more leads for you. You know that, Magnus.”

Will stood up to leave before realizing that he hadn’t ordered anything to drink or eat. He hadn’t had anything before coming here, but he wanted to be out of the nightclub. He didn’t like that Magnus had reminded him of his curse. He didn’t like being reminded that even if he found a cure for Jem, there was no way of saving him from Will’s curse. He would lose Jem either way.

 _Everyone who loves you will die,_ the demon’s voice echoed in his head, louder than the music blasting from the speakers.

Will stumbled out of the nightclub as if running away from the demon’s words. He took a deep breath.

 _Everyone who loves me will die,_ Will thought at the demon. He doubted that it was listening, but it was more for Will’s own comfort than anything else. _But Jem won’t die bedridden and in pain._

This was all Will truly hoped for.


End file.
